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Chelsea Handler Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang (epub
Brit Brinson [Dia of the Dead Dia of the Dead (epub)
Cody Goodfellow [Radiant Dawn Radiant Dawn (epub)
Cate Tiernan [Immortal Belove Immortal Beloved (epub)
C J Busby [Deep Amber 01] Deep Amber (retail) (epub)
Carl Ashmore [Time Hunters 01 The Time Hunters (epub)
Drew Hayes [Super Powereds 02 Super Powereds Year 2 (epub) i
Beth Harbison [Shoe Addict 02 Secrets of a Shoe Addict (epub)
Cara Lynn Shultz [Dark World The Dark World (retail) (epub)
[heft] Perry Rhodan 0925 Boten der Finsternis

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.Jamie parked his car on the street in front of the house in its customary location, leaving the empty driveway spot for the Beamer.He stepped out of his car, slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, and made his way up the driveway toward the front door.As he walked, he allowed his gaze to wander over the simple house, still amazed that after all these years it still felt like home.He had moved back to his childhood house for his year-long residency because the program did not pay a lot in monetary compensation.Instead, the residency rewarded him with the experience he would need to be a successful dentist going forward.He had decided to save the money he would have had to spend on a tiny apartment for the year for a down payment on a house or condo next year.So after being away for eight years, four spent in Boston at Tufts and four at Temple University Dental School in Philadelphia, he had moved back in with his mother and his stepfather.He had been wary about moving back in with his mom and Steve at first because he truly believed that you could never go home again.That once you were out, you were out for good.That your parents wanted to get on with their lives and didn’t want you back.But his mother and Steve had accepted him with open arms, and the transition had gone more smoothly than anticipated.Since he had come home relatively often during his college and post-graduate years for holidays and the like, his parents hadn’t touched his bedroom.His mother assured him, with a sly smile, that his room would only be turned into the dedicated sewing room she so desperately wanted once he was absolutely gone for good, which wouldn’t be until he was married.Jamie’s biggest worry about moving back home was that, despite the DMD after his name, the three of them would slip back into the comfortable-yet-strict parent-rebellious teenager relationship that had existed during his high school years.He couldn’t begin to count the number of times his mom and step-dad had uttered “This is our house and you’ll live by our rules, young man, or you’ll find another place to live.”His worries, though, had proved unfounded.Despite the fact that his mom and Steve were still the parents and he the child, they quickly afforded him all of the respect and privacy he could have wanted.Things had been shaky for a couple of weeks as everyone acclimated to the new dynamic, but once his mother and Steve came to terms with the fact that their little boy was now an adult, and a doctor at that, a balance was struck, one they all could accept and live with comfortably.Home felt like home, and he couldn’t be happier.Jamie made his way up the walkway, fished his keys from his bag, and unlocked the front door.He slipped into the house as quietly as possible, pulling the door closed behind him.He stepped out of his shoes and was no more than four feet into the foyer when the smell of freshly baked pastries wafted out from the kitchen, tickling his nostrils.The sweet aroma was accompanied by the equally delightful voice of his mother as she sang along with the radio.Jamie followed his nose and ears into the kitchen, where his mother stood at the counter, her back to him, working a pie crust against the sides of round tin.She wore a white baker’s apron, and her brunette hair was pulled in a ponytail to keep loose strands from getting into her face as she worked.A fresh pan of sugar cookies cooled under a small window to her left.The song on her lips as she moved was Janice Joplin’s immortal “Mercedes Benz”.The scene was so peaceful, so perfect, so Americana, it could have been immortalized in a Normal Rockwell painting.“Hey mom,” Jamie said, dropping his bag on the kitchen table.He walked over to her and kissed her gently on her cheek.“You never kiss me when you get home anymore,” Leslie Whitman said, a smile on her face.“You must want something.”“Smelled the cookies,” Jamie admitted.He reached out to take one but was thwarted by a well-timed blow from a batter-covered wooden spoon.He rapidly withdrew his bruised hand, a look of mock horror on his face.“Not cool,” he said.Leslie turned to her son.She was a petite woman, no more than five-foot-four, and Jamie towered over her.But she had a certain presence about her, an almost divine fortitude that always made her seem much larger than she actually was.She was thin, though not in an unhealthy way, and her facial features were soft and kind.The only blemish that marred her otherwise smooth skin was a one-inch scar on her right cheek that BrianWhitman, her first husband and Jamie’s biological father, had left her with the night he had disappeared from their lives forever.Though closer to fifty than forty, she had an air of renewed youth about her courtesy of both her second husband and her second chance at life.For her, age was truly nothing more than a number.“They’re for dessert,” his mom said.“I know how many I made, and I’ll know if you take one, young man.”“I thought we had an understanding, mom.That you can’t treat me like I’m seven anymore.”“Maybe not, but your still my son.And you will not ruin your dinner with a cookie.”“Yes ma’am,” Jamie said.“And don’t call me ma’am.It makes me feel old.”“Yes mother.”His mom sighed.Jamie knew she hated being called mother as much as she hated being called ma’am.“How about you make yourself useful and go set the table for dinner.Steve just called.He’ll be home in ten minutes.” His mother turned back to her pie.Jamie did as instructed, pulling plates and bowls, cups and utensils, from their respective cabinets and drawers in the kitchen and arranging them on the dining room table.It took him only two minutes to complete this task, and when he was done, he returned to the kitchen and turned his eyes to his mother, taking pleasure in watching her as she blissfully worked at making the world’s best apple pie.It filled him with a great contentment to see her so happy in her skin, enjoying the simple pleasures of life.After suffering at the hands of his birth father for thirteen years, enduring emotional and physical violence and pain on an almost daily basis, she truly deserved this: a beautiful home filled with love and warmth, a husband who raised neither voice nor fist in anger, and a respectful child who did as he was asked without complaint.“How was work today?” his mother asked, not turning from her task.“Fine,” Jamie said.“Weird.The usual.”Monstru.Abomination.The words cam unbidden to his mind, sent a shiver down his spine.He kept them to himself for the moment.“I’ll tell you over dinner [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]